Dear Petunia, Sorry Severus
by MizzSarcasm
Summary: Petunia responds to the overwhelming responsibility given to her in blankets and a parchment letter. Severus wallows in self pity, then, possibly, remorse. Both of them are subjected to Dumbledore's manipulations because both of them caused a common loved one way too much pain. Maybe saying sorry to those green eyes will help the past forgive them.
1. Dear Petunia

**This is a random something that came to me today. Though I am not sure if it is a one-shot or the first chapter,****I know it is a version of how Petunia could have responded to the baby Harry on her doorstep.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything Harry Potter; you all need to thank Jo Rowling for that.**

**Please enjoy.**

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**Dear Petunia**

_Dear Petunia,_

_I sincerely regret to inform you of the deaths of your sister and brother-in-law, Lily and James. A very Dark wizard murdered them only with the intent of ridding the world of their son and your nephew, Harry. I am not yet sure why the wizard wanted to murder young Harry, nor am I aware of how the child managed to escape him unharmed. I do know the Dark wizard will not be attempting this again any time soon, as young Harry defeated him for the time being. Many witches and wizards would deny this, but the Dark wizard will rise again—of that I have no doubt—and to keep Harry safe from harm, he must remain with his family until he is of age._

_With you, Harry will be safe, not only from the fame he already has in the wizarding world, but the Dark wizard. I believe if Harry calls his family home, the blood-wards produced by that belief will protect him against anyone wishing to cause him harm. Blood magic is an ancient and complex magic—well I must not bore you with the details._

_I have no doubt you will keep young Harry safe, and I am deeply and truly sorry this union came under these circumstances. _

_Respectfully,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Petunia Dursley stared at the letter in her trembling hands. Her sister...Lily..._dead_. She smiled coldly and looked down at the child thrust upon her.

She turned the—she sneered—_parchment_ over and grabbed a pen from a drawer in the kitchen. She wrote one word on the back of the letter, shoved it back in its envelope and threw it back on her doorstep. _Let those filthy _wizards_ find it_, she thought evilly to herself.

As for the child, she turned back into the house—where Vernon still stared between him and his wife in confusion—and gathered him in her arms.

She grabbed the keys forgotten in her husband's large hand and walked toward the door. "I'll be back soon," she called before shutting the front door behind her. She disarmed the car alarm, unlocked the front door, then the back, where Dudley's car seat sat, and buckled the child up in it. She shut the door and walked around to the driver's side, unlocking the door, sitting in, and buckling herself up.

She looked out her rear-view mirror, reversing away from this entire situation.

Petunia decided to drive around with no direction in her head. She just drove.

"_I have no doubt you will keep Harry safe_," she repeated in disgust. "Why bother to ask when you can just tell me how to change my life?" She scoffed and shook her head.

Little Harry sat in the back, watching and listening to this odd woman talk to herself. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the mess in his nappy, but made no sound. The last time he cried, his mummy...fell asleep, but didn't wake up even when the scary monster tried to hurt him, even when he cried really, _really_ loud.

He let out a small sniffle as the tears began to run.

Petunia heard it and glanced at the boy. She sniffed the air, smelling a familiar—but no less awful—odour. "Bloody hell," she hissed aloud, "I forgot bloody nappies." Harry sniffed again and she nodded. "I know, I know, you're messy. Don't worry, we're heading to the store now." She changed direction and drove towards the nearest Marco's.

She parked near the front of the store, as far away from other cars as possible. She unbuckled herself, but sat with her arms crossed on the wheel, staring out the window into nowhere. She glanced through the rear-view mirror at the little boy with her sister's eyes. She sighed and opened her door, walking around to unbuckle the child from his seat.

Her nose wrinkled at the smell coming from the boy, but she held him close. "You really stink, you know," she informed him.

The boy sniffled again and gazed at her with wide eyes. Wide, emerald-green eyes, "Just like your mother's," Petunia observed monotonously.

Harry blinked.

Petunia grimaced and walked into the store. She headed straight for the baby section, ignoring every gaze anyone focused on them.

She quickly found the nappies and grabbed the familiar brand, some wipes, and powder. Harry sneezed and she peered at him. She walked silently to the medicine area and picked up something for children's cold and flu symptoms, trying not to think about why she did.

Harry sneezed again and rubbed his nose with a tiny fist. Petunia watched his hand move higher, to his jet-black hair, and scratch a tiny scar just below the fringe. She frowned, gently moving aside the hair, and saw a thin scar in the shape of a lightning bolt.

Harry scratched at it again, and Petunia noticed how red it looked. She turned and found a healing salve to put on it.

She felt her stomach ache a bit and walked back to the front of the store to grab a basket. She dropped her items in it carefully, and went to search for the food area. She found the fruits and vegetables and picked up a banana. She walked around a bit more, picking up a scone and a bottle of milk.

All the while, Harry observed the woman with silent curiosity. He wondered why she did not say much, or why she cared for him. He never met this woman, yet she held him close and made him feel safe. Like his mummy did. His eyes started to water again, but he didn't sniffle this time. He only watched the lady as she gazed around at the food items in silence.

Petunia paid for the items and changed Harry's nappy in the bathroom. She walked back to the car with the groceries in one arm, him in the other. She sat him in the car seat and herself next to him. She pulled out the banana and peeled it, holding it out for him.

Harry looked at the lady and then back at the fruit. He smiled. He loved bananas.

Petunia watched the boy grab the banana and start to munch on it without dirtying his clothes or the car seat. She smirked and started picking at the scone. She offered the boy a soft, little piece and he picked it up with his small, banana-covered hand and popped it into his mouth. He chewed it with his small teeth and resumed eating his fruit.

Petunia watched, with masked interest, as the little boy pulled the banana peel back a little more and continued eating. He stopped, as if remembering something, and turned to her. He smiled sheepishly and held out the fruit, as if offering her a piece.

Petunia grinned and broke off a piece Harry hadn't slobbered on and gave back the banana. "Thank you," she said quietly.

Harry nodded, as if he understood, and went back to eating.

The two finished off their breakfast with the milk and Petunia wiped off the food Harry had on his face and her hands with one of the wipes. She rubbed some of the salve on his scar, then buckled him back up and placed the garbage in one of the empty grocery bags. She walked around to the driver's seat and sat down, not exactly sure where to go. She buckled her seat belt and continued driving in no planned direction.

Petunia drove around for hours, only stopping for lunch and to change Harry. As the roads started getting darker and more deserted, she started to wonder where she headed.

Only when she arrived did she know where she was going.

Petunia observed the many homes in her old neighbourhood in Cokeworth. She could see many of the lights on from windows of family rooms. One particular window seemed to glow the brightest in the evening light.

Petunia slowed in front of her old home, taking in the worn yet sturdy state of the house. It was just like she remembered, exactly what she tried to forget. The reason for leaving this place was now the reason for coming back. Petunia slowed, but didn't stop.

She drove away and forced herself to not look back. She told herself she did not want to anyway.

She drove away from the setting sun, towards an area that seemed to darken with the day. She passed the old playground and little lake she frequented as a child, remembering the summer that one, dark-haired boy seemed to change her life. Or her sister. Unwittingly, she followed his faded footsteps into the neighbourhood he grew up in, slowing once she reach the bent and broken sign that informed her she reached Spinner's End.

Petunia refused to spend much time in this dark and dreary place, especially to look for its dark and dreary inhabitant.

She stopped on the side of the street anyway.

Petunia did not know why she felt the urge to visit Severus Snape at all, never mind after so many years.

_Maybe because he's the only one who can understand this pain_.

Petunia felt her stomach give a jolt. The thought passed like an unwelcome bit of wind, silent and invisible, hard to escape. The thought brought some realization to her, one that made her acknowledge the pain she felt over her sister's death. The pain she tried to ignore like the cause itself.

She could not ignore this pain, though, nor could she ignore the child who sat silently in the back seat, staring out the window.

She followed his gaze and saw an old, run-down house, not unlike the ones surrounding it. She turned back to Harry and caught him as he raised his hand and waved. She turned back to the house, staring directly at the large window in front of it, and saw a shadow move away, back inside. Like a creature scurrying away from the light after hiding under a rock.

Petunia wondered if the person inside this house... She shook her head and drove away.

She decided to take the way through London home. She watched a mixture of faceless people scurrying about with some kind of importance. She stopped to buy Harry and herself supper and ate with him, once more, in the back seat.

Harry could barely keep his eyes open after Petunia changed his nappy again. She gently secured him back in his car seat and drove around London.

Petunia stopped in front of a large, gray building. This is where she planned to go in the first place, she realised. The fading, gray orphanage in the middle of London, where children stay lost among the other faceless individuals.

Petunia unbuckled her seat belt and sat motionlessly. She stared stoically at the building, not once seeing any happy children running out. In fact, no one came out of the building, despite it being one of the most crowded buildings in the area.

She sighed and lowered her head down onto the wheel.

Petunia did not know how long she sat there, pondering the future and its past. A small sneeze cut through her haze and she turned to the sleeping child.

Her nephew.

Petunia wiped the tears she didn't know she cried from her face and buckled her seat belt.

The two made it back home as the lights of the sitting-room windows in Privet Drive turned off, as if on cue.

Vernon waited in the kitchen with Dudley, who sat in his high chair, eating some sweets. He perked up as the front door opened and watched in confusion as his wife walked in, looking worn, with a small bundle wrapped safely in her arms. Vernon frowned. He was sure Petunia would take the child to the orphanage.

Petunia gave her husband a small, tired smile, before walking upstairs to their room. She sat on the bed, with Harry in one arm, and pulled out the letter from the envelope she picked up from the doorstep.

She turned the letter over, read the one-word reply to Albus Dumbledore's _request_ and sighed. She found a pen, uncapped it, and scribbled over the word, "No."


	2. Sorry Severus

**More than just a one-shot now.**

**I'm not all too sure where I'm going to take this story, but it seems to be going somewhere.**

**You saw the disclaimer in the first chapter. Nothing has changed since then.**

**Enjoy**

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**Sorry Severus**

"_Please," he begged, trying not to sound too desperate, "do not kill the woman."_

_The Dark wizard sneered. "What of the man—or the child!" he hissed._

"_I do not care for either," he said clearly, only thinking of the woman._

_The Dark wizard smirked knowingly, a feature uglier than most on his horrid face. "I see," he hissed softly. Then he struck like the snake he resembled and watched as his follower writhed under his wand, upon the floor, in agony. "You would do well to not test my patience, Severus. You are only alive because of your small value. And I want to see your gratitude for my gift."_

Severus winced again, thinking of his "gift": a dead Dark Lord and a dead family. _Happy Halloween,_ he thought bitterly. He gulped down the rest of Ogden's Finest and summoned another bottle to pour into his tumbler.

The burn in his system did nothing to force out the pain, it amplified it. Severus suppressed yet another memory, another mistake, another reason to die.

He imbibed the entire glass of whiskey and threw it at the wall. The shattering sound did nothing to break through the haze he threw himself into after hearing the news. His mind shut down and he tried to ignore the pain.

A sound from his wards alerted him that someone sat near his house. He dragged himself to the window, unafraid of anyone seeing him. The other Death Eaters did not blame him for the downfall of their master. Not that Severus cared.

He frowned, staring at a distraught woman sitting in the front seat of a Muggle car with a small child in the back. The child gazed right at him, as if waiting for him to appear in the window. The little boy raised his hand and waved.

Severus frowned, not sure what to do, then noticed the woman catch her child waving at a stranger. He fled back inside as she turned toward him.

The jerky movement caused his stomach to turn and he ran to the toilet, retching his entire day into the bowl.

A burst of sobriety hit Severus like a strong hex, and everything he tried to ignore that day tore through his brain like a tornado. He retched more, thinking about everything he did that led up to this point.

Stomach empty and head pounding, Severus could only think one thing: _It is my fault._

Severus cleaned his mess and dressed. He Disapparated to the edge of the Dark Forest and strode to the castle, focusing on the office high in a tower, holding the only other person he could blame.

The door opened in a burst of wandless magic and Severus stared at the old man in front of him. A memory of this very man slapped him in the face.

"_Keep her—them—safe. Please," he croaked._

"_And what will you give me in return, Severus?"_

"_In—in return?" Severus gaped at Dumbledore. After a long moment, he said, "Anything."_

Severus crumpled. He slouched into the nearest chair and let out a low, lamentable moan. The events of the past few hours hit him and he cried.

Dumbledore moved over to him, looking grim.

Another terrible sound, like a wounded animal, escaped Severus and he tried to collect himself. A moment passed and he looked up, not able to look straight into the clear, blue eyes. "I thought...you were going...to keep her...safe..."

"She and James put their faith in the wrong person," the old man replied, "Rather like you, Severus. Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?"

Severus could barely breath.

"Her boy survives," Dumbledore continued. "Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and colour of Lily Evans' eyes, I am sure?"

"DON'T!" Severus bellowed. He crumpled again. "Gone...dead..."

"Is this remorse, Severus?"

"I wish...I wish _I_ were dead..."

"And what use would that be to anyone?" the old man asked coldly. "If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear."

Severus could barely hear him through the haze of pain, he tried to understand the mixture of words. "What—what do you mean?"

"You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son."

"He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone—"

"The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does."

Severus took the time to slowly regain control of himself, forcing his lungs and voice to cooperate. "Very well. Very well. But never—never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear...especially Potter's son...I want your word!"

"My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?" the old man sighed, looking down into Severus' ferocious, anguished face. "If you insist..."

"Yes," Severus said quickly, ending the conversation. He stood and wiped his face, nodding once to the old man before striding to the door. He hesitated, his hand barely on the handle, and faced Dumbledore. "Who is taking care of him?" He did not know why he asked, but it felt right to do so.

Dumbledore seemed to hesitate for a second, then replied, "Petunia Dursley."

The colour drained from Severus' face before it flushed in anger. "What?" he hissed.

"She is his last living relative and—"

"You put the child in the hands of that—that _woman_ because of blood-wards?" Severus yelled.

"She will take care of him, she is—"

"Lily's magic-hating sister! The years of torture she put Lily through because of her jealousy and loathing! Now you put her son into that woman's _care_? I thought you wanted to _protect_ the child!"

"Severus," the old man spoke sedately, "calm yourself. Petunia will care for the child as she cares for her own—do not interrupt me. Harry Potter is her nephew—her sister's son—he is safe in her hands."

Severus disagreed, but nodded. He could not handle this much stress in one day. He moved, again, to open the door, but the old man stopped him.

"Severus—Professor Slughorn is considering retirement."

Severus stared at the man, waiting for the point.

"I would like you to take up the position. You are the most qualified person I know for it, and I am sure it will help you take your mind off matters."

Severus thought about how easily the old man could categorize Lily's death as a _matter_ he needed to take his mind off of. He fought the sneer that came with the thought. "I will...consider your offer."

Dumbledore nodded and Severus left.

He Apparated into his sitting room and lowered his tired form into a worn chair. With a flick of his wand, the fireplace roared to life. He watched the light of the flames dance around the nearly empty glass bottle of firewhiskey and sighed.

"Lily." The word rang through the empty room and hung in the air like fog. Severus ran a hand through his hair which was slick with sweat. He watched his hand return to the armrest. It shook. He let out an unexpected, strangled sob.

Severus stood and found some parchment, a quill, and ink. He wrote two words he wished he could send to the woman he still loved, the woman he wronged. Instead, he summoned his owl and sent it to someone he could.

Little Harry Potter might never understand how sorry Severus truly was.


	3. No Longer Ignored

**I decided to post this earlier than I intended because I got a few new followers and favorites and I like the fact that someone's waiting to read what I'm writing, and likes it. Hope this doesn't disappoint.**

**Disclaimer: We already went over that. I own nothing.**

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**No Longer Ignored**

Harry woke up to the lady scribbling on a piece of paper. She didn't seem to notice the few tears that escaped her eyes. She looked sad and a little angry. She played with the piece of paper, reading it, perhaps. Harry wondered if the lady would read it to him. His mummy and daddy liked to read to him. He sniffled as he thought about the last night they did, when they all snuggled up in a giant bed, with Harry and Kitty in the middle. He could not understand what his mummy and daddy read, but the last story they told him was about a character whose name he liked to try to pronounce. Babby or Babbitty.

Harry sniffled again. He somehow knew his mummy and daddy could no longer help him pronounce the words.

Petunia looked down at her sister's son, her new ward. She wondered if he was sick. She placed her hand on his head and found it a bit warm. She retrieved the medicine she bought and gave him the right dosage. He drank it without trouble.

Petunia walked to Dudley's bedroom and found some pajamas for Harry, reminding herself to purchase some smaller clothes for him later. She changed the sleepy child, noting how quickly the medicine made him drowsy, and thought of where to let him sleep for the night. She peered around the room, unconsciously looking for ideas, when her eyes landed on a blanket. She walked with Harry in her arms to the linen closet and took out an armful of soft sheets. She carried them and the boy downstairs to the living room. She set the sleeping boy down in the middle of a couch cushion, making sure he didn't fall, and set up a make-shift bed on the floor.

Vernon watched his wife silently move around, picking the boy back up and walking upstairs again. She came down again with pillows from their bed and placed them on top of the blankets on the floor in the middle of the sitting room. Vernon did not know what changed in her between now and this morning, but it made him wary. He didn't know why Petunia seemed to care about this child. He read the letter she threw onto the porch and knew all about him. Yet his wife coddled the child as if he were her own and not some spawn of freaks.

Finally settled, Petunia walked over to Dudley, who fell asleep long ago, and kissed his temple. She kissed a dumbstruck Vernon on the cheek, muttering a, "Goodnight," before dimming the lights in the kitchen and walking with Harry back to their bed. She laid the child gently onto a pillow before scooting down next to him.

Still bewildered, Vernon took his child upstairs and readied them both for bed, deciding to deal with the confusion of today tomorrow.

A dark owl flew through the night, stopping in front of a clean glass window of a clean and overly-normal house. His beak made a soft tapping sound that broke through the haze Petunia found herself in. She glanced at Harry before carefully standing up to go investigate the insistent tapping sound. She found an owl waiting outside her window with a piece of parchment tied around his ankle.

Petunia felt an unexpected jolt in her stomach accompanied with the dread of the response to her earlier message.

She shook off the feeling and opened the front door, allowing the owl to glide in. It landed on the back of a chair and held out its leg. Petunia walked slowly toward it and carefully extracted the parchment from it. The owl nipped gently at her finger before flying out the door, back into the night.

Petunia stood frozen, staring through the open door, into darkness. She shook her head, as if to clear it, and shut the door. Focusing back on the parchment in her hand, she unraveled the string that tied it and read the unfamiliar spidery scrawl:

_**I'm sorry.**_

Petunia frowned. She observed the parchment for any information about the cryptic message, but found nothing, not even a name of who sent it or who it was addressed to.

She wondered who was sorry and why, but could think of only herself and how she treated her sister. Petunia would never get the chance to say these words to her sister as this person said them to her. For the first time since she received the news, Petunia let go. She sobbed silently with only the moonlight and Harry's soft snores to comfort her.

"Lily," she whispered, "I'm so sorry." The admission sent her into another round of silent tears.

As she became too tired to cry, Petunia crawled back into the bed on the floor and snuggled up to the sleeping little boy who smiled with the warmth she brought him.

The next morning, Petunia woke to Harry looking up at her. She raised a brow at him and he smiled. She could not help but grin back. An odd look came over the little boy's face and she soon smelled why. A small laugh broke through her and she stood, bringing the little one with her. She saw a flutter in the corner of her eye and turned to see the apology on the ground. She frowned and picked it up, placing it in her pocket. Only then did she realize she slept in her regular clothes.

Shrugging slightly, Petunia walked upstairs to change Harry and use the restroom. Petunia knew they both needed to bathe, so she found a baby chair in Dudley's room to secure Harry in while she took a shower. After, she dressed and added warm water to the tub.

Harry beamed at the lady, delighted to take a bath. He loved baths, especially when his mummy made his toys come to life and play with him. The lady didn't bring toys but she added bubbles, and he liked bubbles.

Petunia smirked at the happy little boy, guessing quickly that he must love baths. Harry proved her theory when he giggled as she placed him in the tub.

Vernon woke up before his alarm and the first thing he heard was a child's giggle accompanied by splashing water. He smiled, thinking his wife finally came to her senses and decided to have a little bonding time with her son to make up for the mess of yesterday. He rolled out of bed, walked to the bathroom door, and peered through the crack of it. He frowned. That was not his son in the tub. Vernon's frown deepened as he watched his wife gently bathe the boy, as if he were her own.

He opened the door. "What are you doing?" The words came out harsher than Vernon intended, making the boy and his wife jump. The boy looked up with freakishly large, green eyes.

Petunia saw the fear in them. She turned to Vernon with a stony expression. "Giving Harry a bath," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Why aren't you giving Dudley a bath?" Vernon asked a bit defensively.

Petunia raised a brow. "Is he awake?" Her tone said she already knew the answer.

"Well, no," Vernon grumbled, "but—"

"'But' what, Vernon? Shall I wake him this early in the morning just because you really want him clean?"

Vernon frowned, nearly pouting. His thick moustache quivered. "No."

Petunia sighed. "Go prepare your clothes for today. I'll finish this up and make breakfast."

Vernon nodded and turned to leave.

"But, Vernon," Petunia called. Her husband turned back. "We'll talk about this later."

Vernon frowned and left.

Petunia sighed again and turned to Harry. She found his eyes still staring where Vernon stood, with a small amount of fear and a large amount of curiosity in them. "Don't worry," she assured him, not sure why she felt the need to, "he's harmless."

Harry grinned up at her shyly and wiped some of the bubbles onto his head, the large, jiggly man temporarily forgotten.

After the bath, Petunia found some of Dudley's old clothes and dressed Harry. She walked downstairs and sat him in the high chair. Harry watched her move around, finding cookware and food. Petunia grabbed one of Dudley's bottles from a cupboard and poured some juice into it. She handed Harry that and a small bowl of dry cereal. Harry smiled in thanks and began happily munching on his breakfast.

Vernon came downstairs as soon as he smelled bacon. Harry saw his fat belly first, then the rest of the man appeared. Vernon frowned at the boy in his son's chair but didn't say anything. He only sat down and waited for breakfast.

Petunia filled up one plate and placed a significantly smaller portion of food on another. She handed Vernon the larger amount and he tore into it after a quick, "Thank you." Petunia nodded and began her own meal.

The two finished at the same time and Vernon stared at his wife expectantly.

Petunia frowned. "What?"

"Aren't we going to talk?"

Petunia shook her head. "Not right now. Tonight, after we put the boys to bed. Which reminds me, I need to go shopping for Harry's things." She murmured the last part to herself.

Vernon glanced at the child. "What does the boy need?" he muttered.

"Many things. For one, a bed. We can't keep sleeping on the floor."

"No one asked you to sleep with him anywhere," Vernon grumbled.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Vernon answered quickly. "Where are we getting the money for this?"

Petunia gave him an exasperated look. "We'll be fine. We will just need to cut back on some things."

"Like what?" Vernon asked snidely.

His wife sighed. "Not now, Vernon."

Vernon hid a scowl and stood, carrying their dishes to the sink. "I'm going to finish getting ready for work."

Petunia nodded. "Oh, check to see if Dudley is awake."

"Now you care," Vernon mumbled to himself.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing, dear."

Petunia narrowed her eyes at his retreating form then shook her head. She never thought this would be easy, she just hoped it wouldn't be this hard.

After cleaning up breakfast, Petunia heard Dudley's screams gradually getting louder. A few seconds later, Vernon appeared, dressed for work, with an irate Dudley in his arms. He kicked and screamed in his dad's arms, limbs flailing about. Vernon walked his boy over to the high chair where Harry watched them with wide eyes.

Vernon glanced at Harry then stared at Petunia expectantly. "Are you going to move him?" As Vernon said this, Dudley gave one forceful kick.

Petunia heard the hit and turned quickly to see a large, red mark the size of Dudley's foot on Harry's cheek. She waited, in horror, for the screams to come as she rushed to him. Harry didn't scream.

Petunia's heart nearly broke. Harry didn't scream or cry out. He only stared at her husband and son with the saddest expression and tears in his large, green eyes. He turned to Petunia and sniffled. He rubbed his cheek.

Petunia's heart did break. She was furious.

"_Vernon!_" Her husband, who saw the accident but did nothing, looked at her with a surprised expression. She picked up Harry and held him protectively against her side. "You wanted to talk, _let's talk_. _Harry_," she gave her husband a pointed look, "is now under my protection. I'm sure you understand why, considering you read the letter." (Vernon had the decency to look abashed.) "This is not temporary, this is not something you can ignore. Harry will be treated as our child, because, as of now, he _is_. You have no say in the matter, just as I didn't. Just as Lily didn't." Her voice broke on her sister's name. She took a deep breath. "You and I will both take care of this child as we do our own. Dudley will treat him as family, and we will both teach him to. Harry is family—"

Vernon tried to protest, "I—"

"If you're not willing to accept this—if you're not willing to agree—then leave. _Now_."

Vernon's face was red. "You would choose this child over our marriage?"

Petunia held Harry a little closer. "Harry is not any child, he is _my sister's_ child."

"You're sister the _freak_?" Vernon asked evilly. Rhetorically.

"_DON'T_ use _that word_ in this house." Petunia's blue eyes burned coldly into Vernon's brown.

Vernon scoffed. "Yes, yes, 'don't speak ill of the dead,' as they say," he said dismissively.

Petunia wanted to slap him. Or cry. Or both. She gritted her teeth to keep from doing either. "Go to work, Vernon," she sighed.

Vernon backed up a step, holding Dudley to him. "And leave him with that f—_child_? And you?"

"_Me_?"

"That child has been messing with your mind. He's been working his-his _spells_ on you!"

Petunia glared at him. "You're an idiot," she said flatly.

"You say this is something we can't ignore, yet you're ignoring your entire life with that—"

"_Enough_!"

Harry jumped but made no sound—a large contrast to Dudley's attention-seeking wails. He'd been ignored long enough, and this gave him a perfect opportunity to regain some notice, and food. He wanted food.

Vernon tried to calm him down, but the screaming only amplified. Dudley wanted his mum. He reached to her.

Petunia glared at her stubborn husband. "Vernon," she spoke in a defeated tone, "go to work. I'll take care of the kids."

Vernon hesitated then handed over his child grudgingly. He didn't want to be late. He left without a 'goodbye' to any of them.

Petunia sat Dudley in the high chair and handed him a bowl of cereal with a bottle of chocolate milk. He happily ate in silence.

Petunia found a plastic bag and some ice cubes to put in it. She wrapped the bag in a thin cloth and held it over Harry's cheek, which blessedly lessened in colour. Harry smiled shyly up at the lady. The lady grinned back.

Hours later, Petunia and the boys found themselves back home from a long shopping spree. Dudley cried nearly the entire time after he realised none of the items were for him. Harry watched in silent wonder at the many objects in the superstore. He tried a few times to calm Dudley by pointing out the really interesting ones, like the large televisions, the shiny telephones, and colourful toys. This did not help calm the crying boy, it only reminded him of everything he wouldn't have. Harry seemed to figure this out and resumed admiring alone. Petunia heard his gasp and peered at the toy that caught Harry's eye. The little boy gazed in awe at a small, ruby red train making its way around a miniature track, puffing real smoke.

Petunia sat Harry and Dudley on the floor in front of the telly. She watched them as she put away all of her purchases, deciding to set up anything that needed assembly later. Not including the present she bought for Harry.

Petunia didn't know why she bought the toy. Harry's birthday passed a few months ago, if she remembered correctly, and Christmas was a few months away. _But, Harry is part of the family now,_ Petunia thought, _and Dudley has so many toys..._

Petunia quietly set up the train on the box it came in. She carried it out on the make-shift tray to the boys sitting in front of the television. She set it down behind them and Harry turned around. He smiled up at her before moving his gaze to the shiny new toy in front of him.

Harry's eyes widened and he beamed up at the lady. He looked at her questioningly, and she nodded in reply. He let out a giggle and crawled toward the train.

Petunia smiled and pushed the little button on the bottom of the tiny train, then placed it back on the track. Harry watched in joy as the train whistled and puffed its way around the track.

Dudley turned to see what was more important than his show and saw the train from the store. He frowned. This wasn't like his usual presents, but he'd take it. It was quite shiny, after all. He moved to grab the train off the track, but his mum pushed his hand out of the way. He frowned up at her, confused.

"This is for Harry," Petunia said gently.

Dudley shook his head. Why would Harry get a gift from _his_ mum? This boring toy was obviously his. Dudley reached for the small locomotive again. And again, his mum moved his hand.

"This is for _Harry_," Petunia repeated. "He may share it with you, but it is for Harry."

Dudley kept hearing 'Harry,' when his mum talked about _his_ present. Why would she give this boy her son's toy? Dudley started to cry and reached for it again. Petunia moved his hand and he cried louder, he even managed real tears. But his mum never relented. He stopped.

Petunia stared back at her son. "Things will be a bit different around here, Dudley," he probably didn't understand her; but this needed to be said, if not for him, then for herself. "Harry is part of the family and he will be treated as such. You will be nice to Harry, okay? Because family is..." She trailed off. _Who am _I_ to talk about the ways of siblings? _She cleared her throat. "Because you are supposed to care for your family...no matter their...differences..." Petunia took a deep breath and leaned down to look Dudley in the eyes. "Now say you're sorry."

Dudley frowned, then looked at Harry.

His cousin smiled back and pointed at the train.

"Sorry," Dudley mumbled a bit reluctantly. Though, in his baby speech, it sounded more like, 'Sarwy.'

Petunia grinned. As did Harry, who pointed at the shiny, red toy, and asked Dudley, "Play?"

Dudley nodded.

Petunia smiled. "Why don't I bring down some of your toys, Dud?"

The little one in question frowned, then seemed to change his mind and nodded. Petunia quickly retrieved some of Dudley's toys and set them down in front of the two. Harry looked fascinated and picked up a little motorcycle. "Paddy," he whispered, and moved the bike around, as if to make it fly.

Dudley gave him an odd look, then picked up another motorcycle and ran it around the carpet. He added sounds for effect. Harry giggled at his cousin, then mimicked him. Soon, the room was filled with _vrooms_ and giggles. Petunia smiled at her two boys, hoping beyond hope the worst was over.

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**I'm still not completely sure where I'm taking this story, but it seems to form itself and I'm just going to follow it. It seems a bit slow to me, but hopefully it'll pick up some speed in future chapters.**


	4. Tired

**I'm impatient and happy, so you all get another chapter. I also had this one finished and ready to go. The next chapters won't come as fast, though (I'm not done with 5, so haven't started others.)**

**Thank you so much for the follows, reviews, and favorites!**

**Once again, I don't own _Harry Potter_, that all belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.**

**Enjoy**

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**Tired**

Vernon came home to his wife sitting on the floor in the living room, watching over his son and the other boy napping next to her. His lip curled in disgust. That little freak had no business in his family. Just because it was his wife's sister's spawn, did _not_ mean it was _their_ problem.

His wife looked up from her spot and gave him a contented smile. He grinned shortly, peering at the boy with the freakish scar on his head. He observed his sleeping son and detected the small smile on his face. Either the boy was performing his tricks on his family, or—though he was loathe to admit—he actually made them happy.

"Is it time for that talk now?" He was sure her shouts from earlier wasn't all she had to say.

Petunia nodded. She stood and walked to the kitchen so she could keep an eye on the kids. Vernon set his things down on the table and followed her.

"I am his guardian," Petunia stated simply.

"So, by default, I am too," Vernon sighed. His wife nodded.

"We'll find the money. For one, Dudley doesn't need nearly as many toys as we give him. We can narrow down shopping for those to the holidays and his birthday. We could also limit our trips out for dinner and the cinema."

Vernon fought a sneer. "Can't we just ask those fr—those people to give us the money we need for him?"

Petunia scowled. "Vernon, we are not poor; we do _not_ need their charity," she snapped.

Vernon grudgingly nodded. He was not—nor ever will be—a charity case.

"I'm not asking you to love him or be his daddy. I just want you to be nice to him, and not do anything to him you wouldn't do to or for Dudley. It's bad enough he's an orphan, he doesn't need you scaring or neglecting him all the time. And don't you _dare_ let Dudley be mean to him. I swear, Vernon, if I _ever_ see you just stand there and _watch_ Dudley hurt him, without doing _anything_ to help Harry, I'll..." she was too angry to finish her statement and shook her head. She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes.

"But—" Vernon started. He cut himself off when Petunia glared at him. She raised her brows as if to tell him to continue. "Why can't some other family take him?"

"You know damn well why," Petunia admonished. "You already know I know you read the letter. Or could you not comprehend it?" she mocked snidely.

"I understood it," Vernon grumbled.

"Then why even ask, Vernon?"

He didn't answer her rhetorical question. The two stood there in silence.

"This isn't something we can ignore any more," Petunia started, "My sister is dead, and we are Harry's only protection now."

"What happens when that dark magic person comes after him? How can we protect him then?"

Petunia shrugged. "I really don't know. But we can still protect him from reality."

"What—?"

"Harry has no parents and is magical. He is different. I will do everything in my power to not let that fact pull him down. I refuse to make this mistake twice."

Vernon decided it was pointless to argue. He still had a few questions. "What do we do when he starts doing...tricks?"

Petunia smirked. "He's not a puppy, Vernon. Lily didn't start doing anything until she was a few years old; and those were random, odd occurrences. She began controlling them around seven. By then, she could hide it. She started school at eleven."

"There's a _school_ for them?"

Petunia nodded. "A whole world for them."

"Will he just be a normal kid before then?"

Petunia nearly objected at the 'normal' part, but changed her mind. "Yes."

"Oh." It wasn't as bad as Vernon thought. He could ignore it until the boy turned eleven. Maybe he could still hide it even as he went to school. Anything for the sake of normality.

"Anything else?" Petunia asked patiently.

"Not for now."

"Okay," Petunia nodded. "Oh! Come see what I bought. I might need your help setting up some of it." She quickly checked on the still-sleeping boys then led Vernon upstairs. The two reviewed the purchases and discussed preparing Dudley's second room for Harry. Vernon managed not to scowl throughout it all.

The two went back downstairs in time for dinner. Petunia's mood was considerably lighter now that Vernon stopped acting like an ass. Her happiness did not go unnoticed and Vernon grinned to himself, glad, at least, that his wife was happy.

Petunia made a beeline for the boys and noticed Harry staring at her. She smiled at him. "Well, hello there."

Harry giggled. Petunia smiled back. She realised their moods did a complete about-face in just a day. She smiled wider. At one point yesterday, Petunia would have thought her life could not possibly get better. Soon after, she thought it could not possibly get worse. Now...now she was content, almost happy.

By the look on Harry's tiny face, he was too.

Petunia really wished the circumstances that brought them together could change, but she thanked any deity that listened for bringing this wonderful little boy into her family.

Hopefully, one day, Vernon and Dudley could feel the same.

"How could anyone not love you, sweetie?" Petunia whispered to Harry, poking him in the stomach, making him laugh cutely. She tickled him some more, bringing out the sweetest sound, and waking Dudley. Petunia smiled at him, moving closer. "Can't forget you, can I Dudders?" She attacked before he could make a sound. Soon, the living room was brought back to life, filled with childish joy, bringing a smile to even Vernon's face.

Petunia finally relented in the name of dinner. "So," she asked the boys, "what do you want for dinner?"

"Pizza!" Dudley answered excitedly.

"Pizza, huh?" Petunia replied. Dudley nodded. She turned to Harry. "What do you think about pizza?"

"Pizza!"

Petunia laughed. "Well, it's unanimous. Vernon, is pizza okay?"

"Sure." He found the pamphlet for their favorite pizza place and ordered. "Should be twenty minutes," he said after ending the call.

Petunia nodded, then went back to playing with the boys. Vernon opted to sit in the room and watch in amusement. He guessed the boy wasn't _that_ bad. In fact, the boy could even be called cute—not that Vernon would ever admit this aloud.

The doorbell rang at the time expected and Vernon stood to answer the door. He paid and set the pizza on the table, finding plates and napkins. He moved back to the living room.

Petunia picked up Dudley. She smiled at Harry, then faced Vernon. "Will you get him?" she asked nonchalantly.

Vernon's eye twitched, but he walked over to the boy. Harry looked up with a bit of worry in his eyes. Vernon grimaced. He tried to make his face somewhat pleasant, forging a smile.

Harry started laughing. The jiggly man made a really funny face.

Vernon rolled his eyes. "Glad you found that funny," he said sarcastically. He bent down and scooped the giggling child in his arms. Harry squealed in delight. Vernon raised a brow at him. He gently poked the boy's little stomach. "So you think I'm funny, eh?" he said in a mock-stern voice, earning more laughter from the child.

Petunia nearly cried in joy. She schooled her features into a slightly amused mask—an easy feat considering the sight of her large husband playing with her tiny child.

Vernon set Harry down in the new high chair next to Dudley's. Petunia and Vernon set the food out and the four happily ate their pizza.

After dinner, Harry and Dudley got to watch in amusement as the two adults tried to figure out Harry's new crib. They cleaned out the second room, organizing the piles of _stuff_ crowding the area. Vernon helped Petunia set up and put away everything she bought for Harry. Everything except for that damned crib.

Vernon let out another curse as he pinched his finger for the fifth time in five minutes. Petunia smacked him again for such language in front of the children. Another two giggles came from behind them, where Dudley and Harry sat watching.

Finally, they finished the crib. "Bath time," Petunia announced. She and Vernon each picked up a boy and brought him to the bathroom. This time Harry had toys—though they didn't move. It was okay, though, because his cousin knew how to play with them and make noises for everything.

Half an hour and many bubbles later, Dudley and Harry fell asleep in their own beds. Vernon and Petunia followed their lead, and soon, the house fell into a comfortable silence.

Those silences never last long.

Petunia woke up, choking on a scream. She struggled to separate her nightmare from her reality, a difficult task when her sister stayed alive in neither. Her hands shook as she dabbed the cold sweat from her brow. She took a deep breath, but let it out with a sob.

Vernon groaned in his sleep and rolled over. Petunia left the bed, not wanting to wake him. Knowing sleep was not an option, she went downstairs to start the laundry. She folded the towels left in the dryer and put the wet clothes in their place. Picking up more dirty clothes, she started a new wash.

Once again, paper fluttered across her peripheral vision and she picked up the small piece of apologetic parchment. Her stomach sunk. Not an hour ago, she heard herself screaming those very words, desperate for them to reach her sister's ears. They never did. They never will.

Petunia crumpled into a ball on the floor, sobbing wretchedly to herself. She screamed into her fist, biting it, drawing blood. A drop fell onto the parchment, like punctuation for the confession. She sniffled. And the dam broke again. No one could hear her cries over the dryers tumbling groans.

Petunia finally stopped crying when the dryer stopped drying. Not a minute later, a familiar tapping sound flew in from the other room. Petunia stood and found a different owl waiting for her outside. She quietly opened the door again and the owl flew in. It landed on the kitchen table and held its leg out. Petunia hesitantly untied the letter from it and read it as the owl waited.

It was from Dumbledore. About money. Petunia would be given a sort of child support every month until Harry came of age. The money would be put into an account under her name. Petunia debated showing this to Vernon, still unsure how he would react. She decided to postpone the stress of this for later.

She held the two pieces of parchment in her hands, looking at both and seeing neither. She twiddled with the edges of one numbly. The gentle, affectionate nibble on her finger broke Petunia out of her trance. She peered at the owl in surprise, forgetting he was there. A thought struck her as she gazed at the dark feathers and she left to go find a pen. "Wait here, please."

She came back and wrote on the back of the smaller letter, folding it and picking up the string that tied the other. She held both up awkwardly in front of the owl. "I don't really know how this works, but, do you think you could take this to the person who sent it?"

The owl hooted and held out its leg. Petunia smiled in relief and tied the letter to the owl as carefully as she could. "Thank you."

Another hoot. The owl nibbled on her finger once more then flew up. Petunia rushed to open the door for him, then watched him become part of the night sky once more.

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**I like the next chapter, so far (again, not done with it.) Severus and Petunia confront each other. It's exciting.**


	5. Scars

**Thank you everyone who reviewed, followed, or favorited this story. Hope you like this chapter too.**

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**Scars**

"_No!_"

The wood splintered as it hit the wall then fell into pieces beside the shattered glass and other debris. Severus cast a quick _reparo_ on it all, summoning the chair he just destroyed and fixed. He studied the wood, noting the faint scratches where he just broke it. _Repaired, but not unharmed._

Severus dropped the chair and fell into it. He stared at the tattoo on his arm. The skull laughed back at him, mocking him. The snake hissed and teased him. Both fed off his misery. He summoned a knife. Glaring at the top edge of the Mark, in the middle of his wrist, he lined up the blade with it. Smiling manically, he dug the sharp metal into his skin, watching numbly as a line of blood formed.

As his life started draining from him, the snake began to slither, and the skull chuckled darkly. A sensation like a cold bucket of water poured over Severus and he jerked up, sobering. He quickly cast a spell to close the fatal wound. He gazed at the faint scar left behind. _Repaired, but not unharmed._

_So far, _he thought to himself, _magic has destroyed much more than it's built._ A sickening green light flashed in his mind before he could stop it. The memory—or thought, as he wasn't _there—_replayed in his head. "_No!_" he shouted to the walls once again. His hands shook as they ran through his hair. "Please, _no_," he sobbed.

Caught in another fit of rage, Severus stood and flung the chair at the abused wall again. He screamed out and a lamp burst. "_Lily_." He collapsed onto his knees and stared around at his house. Everything—save the chair, wall, and lamp—was in its same, perfect order. As if he hadn't, for the last day, beat this very room into a visual representation of the anguish festering inside of him.

He repaired the chair, wall, and lamp again, setting them back in the right order.

He collapsed into the chair again. The room stared at him. He felt uncomfortable under its wise, unforgiving gaze.

He stood. Each side of the room enlarged and shrunk as he paced and paced. Back and forth, his robes snapping with each turn, billowing like a cape behind him. He stopped. _Why am I wearing a cape?_

"I'm not some bloody superhero!" Severus said as he removed the robes in a hurry. _Why am I still wearing robes? _"Oh yes," he remembered, "I came home with them on and haven't removed them. My mind was a bit..._elsewhere_." He narrowed his eyes accusingly at the room. It glared back. "I haven't slept since!" he admitted. He bit his thumbnail in a long-forgotten nervous habit. "I didn't sleep much the day before, either." His hand fell. "Lily will sleep forever."

A sob wrenched itself from his chest and he succumbed to the force of it. Once again, he fell. This time, he didn't bother getting up. "It's over." He wondered if Dumbledore would find him before his body completely decayed.

As if the very wizard heard the thought, one of the school owls the senile wizard was fond of appeared in the dark, early-morning sky. Severus watched him come closer and closer until he stopped and waited patiently at the window.

Severus sighed and pushed himself into a sitting position. He peered at the owl outside his window. Severus sighed again and stood. "Won't even let me die in peace," he grumbled to himself. He unlocked the window and opened it, letting the owl fly in. It landed on the back of his abused chair. _Out of all the furniture..._

"Excellent choice," Severus commented dryly. The owl hooted in reply then held out his leg. Severus frowned at the small piece of parchment tied to it. The Headmaster never sent anything but letters. His heart skipped a beat as he thought this might be an emergency. He quickly untied the message and unfolded it. He frowned. It was his message. The apology he sent to Lily's son. He studied the parchment, looking for anything that would hint to why the message somehow returned to him, hours later and by a different owl.

Severus looked closely at the parchment and found a small speck of..._blood_? He flipped the parchment over and his stomach flipped. He had to sit. Written—in _pen_, maybe?—were the words:

_**Me too.**_

Many questions flitted through Severus' mind like tiny, infuriating owls. _Who sent this? Why did they? Why are they sorry? Why did they not ask who I was? Do they already know? Who could send this, it was addressed to Harry Potter—sort of. Did my owl make a mistake?_

"No." His owl never made mistakes. _Then who sent this? _Certainly the child was no older than a year, he couldn't write it. Could he? _No, that's a ridiculous thought. Even if he could, what could he possibly be sorry for?_

Elek, Severus' owl, flew in, shooing away Dumbledore's owl and took the newly-vacated spot. He peered down at Severus from his perch on the chair, his amber eyes boring into the broken man. He watched as the man struggled to keep the truth away, and failed.

"Petunia." Severus stared down at the parchment with renewed interest. He sneered. What was she sorry for? She never loved Lily! _And _I_ did?_ He thought of Lily laying lifeless at the foot of her child's crib. All because of the words _he_ said. The prophecy _he_ repeated to the master _he_ followed.

_Sure, Petunia never accepted Lily, but at least she never did anything to _kill_ her,_ Severus thought bitterly. He ran his fingers over the words. He gave a short, barking laugh. _Imagine_, he mused, _if Petunia knew just who she confessed to._

Maybe she did know.

Severus stared at the parchment again and wondered about the reddish-brown stain. He smelled it. Copper and salt. Blood. It looked fresh, maybe a few hours old. Possibly as long as it would take for the owl to fly it to him from Surrey. Severus wondered why the note was punctuated with Petunia's blood.

He froze. _Was it Petunia's blood?_ What if she had hurt the child and that was what she apologized for? Or what if she harmed herself and this was her _note_?

Severus sighed shakily. He certainly understood the appeal in taking one's own life after these events, especially if one was on the offensive and guilty end.

Severus once again thought about the child. He, again, was not entirely sure the blood belonged to the woman.

That thought had him alert. He had to make sure the boy was unharmed. He _did_ vow to keep him safe just the day before.

Severus quickly cleaned himself up and made his way out of the dreary house on Spinner's End.

/

Petunia didn't bother trying to go back to sleep, she feared another nightmare. She spent the next few hours cleaning the house, making sure every surface and crevice was spotless. The place nearly gleamed by the time she heard Dudley's morning cries.

She made her way upstairs, checking the smaller bedroom with their newest family member inside. She was surprised that the boy was already awake. Harry grinned at her and Petunia went to pick him up. She changed him before taking him with her to Dudley's room. While changing Dudley, Petunia heard Vernon mulling about. She carried the boys to the bathroom and started the water. She had them set into the bath, complete with toys and more sound effects when the doorbell rang.

Petunia heard Vernon make his way downstairs, muttering about who would come here so early in the day. Petunia wondered the same. She couldn't help but focus part of her attention on the unexpected visitor. She couldn't hear much, though. Only the person at the door was a man with a low voice. Vernon let out a confused exclamation and the man replied in the same tone. Vernon sounded angry now and he clamored up the stairs, grumbling again, this time about random people disturbing his morning and his wife.

_His wife?_ Petunia thought. Now she was really curious. Vernon appeared at the bathroom door looking a little red in the face. "Some man at the door asked to see you," he sneered. "Won't tell me his name, or why he's here, but he sure seems comfortable asking for my wife." Vernon huffed irritatedly.

"What—"

The sound of the door shutting and quick footsteps coming their way stopped Petunia from finishing her question.

A very unwelcome face came into view from behind Vernon, pushing the larger man out of the way with a one-armed nudge. Vernon was too shocked to protest. How _dare_ this man come into _his_ home, unwelcome.

Severus Snape moved the large man aside when he realized the woman and the boy were in the room. He assessed the child, checking for any injuries or obvious distress, but found the boy seemed well enough. Happy, maybe, and a bit curious, but unharmed. The boy looked familiar, Severus suddenly noticed. He didn't have to think long about why. The boy brightened after staring at him for a bit, then smiled, throwing in a little wave to Severus' memory. This was the boy in the car that showed up in front of his house two days ago. Severus' eyes shot to Petunia and he realized this was the distraught woman in the front seat of the car. His eyes ran over her and he noticed the teeth-shaped cuts on her hand. Nothing fatal, but with this new understanding, a bit disconcerting. He wondered how the child would fare with a disturbed caretaker.

Petunia took one look at the judgment in the greasy-freak's eyes and lost it. "What the _hell_ are _you_ doing here?" Her sudden outburst made both of the boys jump and she stood up. "Watch the boys," she barked at Vernon and shoved the dark-haired man out of the room.

Petunia tried to shove him again, but Severus stood firm this time, smirking at her. "Kitchen," she said darkly.

Severus made sure she went first, not wanting to walk downstairs with a woman who likes to shove behind him.

Petunia shut all the doors to the kitchen and turned to him.

Severus smirked again. "If you wanted privacy, all you had to do was ask." He lifted his wand—causing the woman to flinch, to Severus' enjoyment—and cast a silencing charm on the room.

Petunia sneered at him. "Freak."

"Ah, yes. That's what you called us."

_Us_. Petunia flushed in shame, thinking about all the names she used against her sister. She regained her composure. "No, that one was just for you."

Severus rolled his eyes.

"You never answered my question. What are _you_ doing _here_?"

"I got your _note_. Or rather, your reply to my note." Severus held up the scrap of parchment with both of their writing on it.

Petunia frowned at it. "That was from you? And how did you know the reply was from me? And what the hell do you have to be sorry about? I thought you and my sister were the best of friends."

"It was indeed from me. I was not entirely sensible at the time and meant to send it to the boy...Harry. I thought it was from you because I figured the child may not yet be able to read or write. I'm also certain he has nothing to apologize for."

"But what do _you_ have to apologize for?"

Severus sneered at the woman. "That is none of your concern."

"Isn't it? She was my sister."

"Oh, now you acknowledge that."

Petunia flinched, but kept on. "What did you do to my sister?" She looked scornfully at the man and noticed how awful he looked. He had dark shadows under his eyes, making his black eyes more prominent over pasty skin. His black hair looked oilier than normal and his dark outfit completed the look. Petunia wondered why he was sorry and what this dark man did to— Then it clicked. Her eyes filled with a fury that could rival the Dark Lord's. "YOU _KILLED_ MY SISTER?"

Severus felt cold dread slither into his stomach. "Excuse me?"

"_You're_ the 'Dark wizard' that murdered my sister and tried to take her child with her!"

Realization dawned on Severus and he quickly refuted the woman's accusations. "I assure you, I am not Lord Voldemort."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Lord Voldemort, the _Dark Lord_—or _wizard_ as you were informed—murdered your sister and attempted to take the child's life. Not me."

"Then what were you apologizing for. And why didn't you protest when I first said you murdered my sister?"

Severus inwardly cursed. The woman was surprisingly observant. "I hurt her long ago and never took the chance to apologize to her. And you caught me off guard with your _accusations_."

Petunia admitted—to herself, of course—that she was a bit rash with her words, but, "You were apologizing to Harry, not Lily."

Severus cursed to himself again. "I was sorry for his loss." He nearly rolled his eyes at his own words. Petunia looked like she, too, held back an eye roll.

She settled for a raised brow instead. "Sure you were."

"I don't need to explain myself to you."

"The hell you don't! You came into _my_ house into _my_ room and bothered _my _family. You absolutely owe me an explanation."

Severus sighed. "I came to check on the boy," he admitted. Petunia frowned. He continued, "I found blood on the parchment and became concerned for his health. Or yours. And before you think I actually give a damn about you, I felt concerned about the child in the care of someone _disturbed_."

"Disturbed!"

Severus glanced at Petunia's hand. "Whose blood was it on the parchment?"

Petunia blushed. "I had a moment," she said flatly, glaring at the man. She narrowed her eyes. "Why did you _send_ the note?"

Severus grit his teeth. "I, too, had a..._moment._"

Petunia let out a snort. Severus glared at her.

Vernon walked in, interrupting their staring contest, scowling at the rude man. "Petunia, I must get to work, I'm already running late."

"You haven't eaten. Where are the boys?"

"Up in the rooms. I'll pick something up on the way."

"Okay. Have a nice day." Petunia turned to Severus. "Or as nice of a day as you can have when _this_ _man_ ruins the morning."

Severus fought another eye roll. Vernon smirked evilly at the rude man then kissed Petunia on the cheek. "I'm sure I'll manage." He left with one last glare at their intruder.

"Why do you care about Harry at all? You never gave a damn about Lily's family."

Severus' eye twitched. It was specifically his carelessness that got her family killed in the first place.

Petunia watched the man's face lose all emotion. He looked blank—almost dead, considering how pale he was.

"I must go," Severus said stoically.

Petunia frowned. As much as she didn't want it to be true, she still stated, "This isn't done."

"No."

"Will you be barging into my house again?"

"I'd rather never visit your house again."

"That didn't answer my question."

"I cannot answer your question."

"Why not?"

"Because _I don't know_."

Petunia stared at Severus for a moment.

A cry could be heard from upstairs. Dudley was hungry. Possibly Harry, too, though he made no sound to indicate such. Petunia frowned. It was a bit odd for a child not to cry. She wondered why Harry didn't cry much and decided to think on it later. First, she had to feed them.

She turned to the man. "You need to leave now."

Severus nodded. Petunia followed him to the front door and shut it behind him as he left without a word.

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**Please tell me what you think.**


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